


Friendship and a Gun

by whatfandom



Category: Phandom
Genre: Depression, Heavy on the angst, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatfandom/pseuds/whatfandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan gets tired of Phil's perfection + 1.5 part from Phil's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship and a Gun

Dan was always the popular one. He was perfect; I swear to god he was the second coming of Jesus or something. He was better looking than I was, had more friends than me, fucking hell he was even smarter than I was. Anything Dan wanted to do; he could do it with little to no problem. He was better at  _everything._ I had nothing and he had everything. He even had a mother that cared, and of course, I did not. I just had a father that could not care less. Dan was my best friend though. Even though he had everything I didn’t, we got along quite well. I put my jealousy aside and let our friendship bloom. I guess by association that made me popular too, in middle school anyways. In high school on the other hand… Not so much. We went to different high schools, once again, he was popular and I was not, once again.

My phone buzzed in second period, I slyly managed to read the text (it was from Dan of course) and texted him back. He was asking if I was going to the party one of our old friends was throwing that night. I told him no, I could not because of my dad. He never let me out of the house, sometimes he’d let me hang out with Dan, sometimes.

I scratched at my arms, as I got mad, stressed, and sad again. No, sad wasn’t the correct word, depressed was more like it.  There were multiple red lines (from when I had slid my blade across it the night before) hidden under my hoodie. I could get my other arm through the wrong sleeve and start scratching at them, cause more pain just when I needed it. And right now, not only did I need it, but I deserved it. I was worthless compared to Dan. He was so fucking perfect.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, digging my finger nails into my arms and trying my hardest not to make eye contact with anyone.

That night Dan texted me at midnight, asking me to sneak out so, that I could come to the party with him. I told him no, that I couldn’t do that, my dad would probably kill me, no, strike that, he would most defiantly kill me. Dan texted me back saying it was a shame and he would have a beer in my honour.

The rest of that year was hell, Dan was always pretty much telling me how perfect he was and how unimportant I was, like I really needed someone to tell me that. I already knew exactly what I was; I was gay, stupid, ugly, zit faced, and fat.

One day that summer, the first summer of high school, I was alone at home. Well, my dad was home, but that was pretty much the same thing. I had had four years of Mr. Perfect, and I had enough. I found the gun my father kept in the house, just in case. I took that gun and brought it back to my room. I basted MUSE from my stereo, how ironic, the last song I will ever hear was the same song I fell in love with Dan to all those years ago. We were at a dance, a school dance, the first time we met. I was his sparkling brown eyes and I knew I fell for him, and fucking Christ did I fall hard for him.

I scribbled out a note to my dad, and to Dan, telling them that I was sorry. I wrote about how perfect Dan was, and I told him to stay like that because now, without me, he could do so many more things.

I was a lot calmer than I always thought I was going to be. I always thought when the day to kill myself came I would be scared as fuck, but no I was the calmest I had ever been. So, I picked up the gun, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. 

——-

I got the call at two in the morning from his dad, his dad was wrecked. I dropped the phone first, the dropped to my knees, sobbing. I was told the news, Phil was dead. I sank to my knees; I wasn’t sure what I was saying. I was screaming I knew. It wasn’t long until my mum came in and I told her. I told her that my best friend had killed himself. That  _Phil_ had killed himself. I was a wreck.

I stayed in bed all week. I turned off my phone because I was getting phone calls from friends asking me to go out to parties.

I got out of bed once that week. I put on my suit and straightened my hair. I had to go to his funeral. I was up front with his family. I wanted to kill both of his parents, as this was partly their fault. If they only showed how much they cared while he was alive.

Afterwards I went back into bed, staring at a wall. Mum tried to feed me, but I just left it where it was. I did everything while everyone was asleep. I showered and ate a bit even, I just couldn’t see the look of pity my Mum gave me as I walked past her.

I thought a lot mostly, and I started to blame myself. If I had only told him how much I loved him a few more times, I should have kissed him while I had the chance, if I just would’ve fucking  _listened_ to him!

It was my fault, and I knew it. I started punishing myself for it. A cut across my wrist for every minute I waited with him, I told myself.

One night I cut too deep, hit a vein. I saw him, I know I did. He shook his head sadly at me and gave me a small kiss on the lips. “Move on…” He mumbled. But he was gone too quickly. I awoke in a white room with doctors in white coats around me. My mum was crying, and my dad was too. When I blinked my eyes open they came running towards me, my mum wrapped her arms around me and told me how much she loved me.

“I can’t do that again. Dan told me I had to move on,” I said. “I just miss him so goddamn much.” I was crying again.

I cried a lot for the next year. But slowly… I moved on. I meet a really nice boy that took care of me. I loved him a lot, his name was PJ. He listened to me talk about Phil, and hugged me. And one day we kissed. A few years later we kissed each other again and said, “I do.” But I never forgot about my best friend.

 


End file.
